Children's Playthings
by wimsicalpan
Summary: (Continuation of Kiddy Corral and The Kids Aren't Alright)It's been 6 months since Lucifer and Charlotte were locked in the cage. Six months of adjusting to normal life for Sam and Natalie and six months of throwing himself head first into every hunt for Dean. As if they weren't shaken up enough, Crowley's up to something and he's not alone. (Set Season 6 onwards Updates Thursdays)
1. 2010 November

**A/N:** So, here we are. The third instalment in the _Kiddy Corral_ series. I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoy writing it. Any thoughts and comments are appreciated. Let's get _Children's Playthings_ started shall we?

* * *

2010 – November

Sam stretched as he climbed out of his car, letting the door close soundly behind him. He glanced up at the small block of flats and couldn't help the small smile he let out as he headed towards the main door and started up to the third floor. He was already pulling his keys out of his pocket, a small hum in the back of his throat. The flat wasn't much, barely a living space with a tiny spare box bedroom that held a single bed. A kitchen that he and Natalie had to squeeze themselves into and a living room with a well used couch.

He closed the door behind him and couldn't help the small smile that grew on his face. It wasn't much, but for the last month it had been their home. It hadn't been their idea to rent the flat. Dean had pretty much pushed them both away:

" _Devil's gone. May as well start living."_

" _Dean,"_ Sam had tried _._

 _Dean waved him off, "One of needs to be happy alright? So go, play happy families or whatever. Be happy."_

"Sam?"

He blinked away the conversation from his mind and followed the sound of Natalie's voice into the cramped kitchen. "Hey."

She looked up from the hot drinks she had just finished making and smiled warmly at him. "Dean rang. He said he's going to stop by tonight, see how we're doing."

A slight frown creased Sam's brows as he took his offered cup from her, "How did he sound?"

Natalie sighed and shook her head with a shrug. "The same? Like his mind was preoccupied."

Sam's frown didn't budge and stared down at his feet as he leaned against the counter. It hadn't been easy for anyone moving on. He and Natalie had wanted to stick with Dean, keep him company and make sure he wasn't going to do anything stupid, but he'd pushed them away telling them they'd earned their right to a happy, hunt free life. Bobby had started to drink himself to sleep every night and, last time Sam had checked, it was only recently the older man had started to slow down with the drink. Jo had quietly sulked off to her own little corner of the states. _"I've had enough excitement for now."_ And Dean… Dean was the worst. Sam didn't know if he would ever get over it. It took three weeks for him to finally say something to anyone, to finally start eating and drinking like his normal self. Then he'd thrown himself into hunt after hunt after hunt. Sam had tried to get Dean to slow down, just a little but he'd been brushed off with a shrug. Cas had made a brief appearance from trying to help Heaven right itself to tell Dean that he was being stupid but even that didn't work.

Natalie shoving his shoulder made Sam look up and he blinked at her smiling face. "He can take whatever monsters want to throw at him. He'll be fine. No archangels, no devils. He'll be fine."

"I know," Sam said with a wide smile, "I know, I just-"

"Worry?"

He let out a short laugh and nodded his head, "You could say that."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and tugged him down to gently kiss his lips. "Sam Winchester, your big brother Dean is alive. He's going to be coming here to hang out, have a brotherly bonding session and dump his crap all over our spare room. He's going to be here in about two hours, and I haven't seen you all day."

Sam looked down at her with a growing smirk and grabbed Natalie's hips with a hum. "Miss me?"

She traced a finger down his chest stopped in the centre as she bit her lip, "A little."

He grinned and within the next instant had her over his shoulder and was walking to their bedroom. "Guess I better make up for lost time huh?"

Natalie laughed, lightly slapping Sam's back and trying to reach his ass. "You're too damn tall, Winchester!" Sam shook his ass a little to tease her and kicked the bedroom door shut behind him.

* * *

Natalie sung quietly along to the radio that played in the kitchen as she washed the pots and pans, giving the boys a little bit of space. Changing lives hadn't been easy and she was still adjusting to existing in the normal view of the world. She envied Sam for his ease to blend in with everyone else and his ability to hide himself. Natalie wished she could do the same and she stopped singing as the song finished, nothing but the sound of splashing water and murmurs of Sam and Dean to keep her company.

She wished they could go back. She always wished that they could go back. The four of them. Alive. Well. Happy. She was just getting by and she knew that Sam struggled to cope when the door to the outside world was closed. And Dean. Dean was on a downward path of self destruction, just waiting for something to take him out in a blaze of glory.

Natalie closed her eyes and let out a soft sigh, letting her elbows rest on the edge of the sink and the warm water to wash over her arms. This life was nice with Sam, really nice. And normal. But it could be better. She slowly opened her eyes and couldn't help but to frown down at the water. Charlotte had always been telling her to make sure that she lived a life away from the monsters, away from hunting and now- She pulled her hand out of the water and banged a fist onto the side. "You're an idiot," she whispered to the empty kitchen. "You're the biggest idiot I know."

She screwed her eyes shut a moment to hold back the few tears that had started to build before she took a deep breath and opened her eyes to stare out of the kitchen window. The window looked directly over the street below and she peered down, looking at the passer bys innocently going about their lives without a single bit of knowledge that it had almost been wiped out from beneath them. Her eyes scanned up and down, lazily watching the people below. She'd scanned her eyes down the street and was working her way up when she stopped, gaze fixed on a shadow just behind a street light across the road. It didn't move, didn't budge, but something about that particular shadow drew Natalie in and she leaned towards the window, eyes narrowed, to get a better look. It felt as though something was staring back at her and her hunter instincts were telling her to grab a weapon and be ready.

Somebody laid a hand on her shoulder and Natalie jumped, twisting to put her hand underneath Dean's neck. A moment later she let out a deep breath and let go, shoving away his curiously amused face. "Don't sneak up on me like that."

"Were you spacing out there, Nat? I shouted you like five times to come watch this movie with us."

She nodded her head with another sigh, "Yeah, sorry, I just- was daydreaming."

"Must've been a pretty good daydream."

She rolled her eyes and turned to pull the plug and let the water out of the sink. There was a noise outside and she looked up to see a trash can tipped over, rubbish still landing on the pavement and she shook her head. _Stop being so paranoid._

"You guys got any popcorn?" Dean asked as he opened their fridge, pulling out the bottle of wine and two beers.

"Sorry," Sam said, "all out. I'll make sure we have some next time."

"You guys suck."

* * *

Something was troubling her. She didn't know what, but something was keeping Natalie awake and she gave it until half one in the morning before she threw her legs over the side of the bed and pulled a pair of pyjama pants on. She grabbed one of Sam's jackets and slipped that on, zipping it up to her chin and quietly crept out of their bedroom. With a yawn she started to make her way to the kitchen, wondering if they had any chamomile tea left in, and she froze at the beam of light that protruded from the bottom of the door that led to the spare bedroom. She blinked twice and tiptoed around the floorboards that she knew squeaked and stopped outside of the room, listening carefully for anything.

" _I'm busy. Leave a message and I might get back to you_." There was the sound of somebody hanging up before she heard the notes dialling again. _"I'm busy. Leave a message and I might get back to you." "I'm busy. Leave a message and I might get back to you."_ Now she felt guilty for intruding. That was Charlotte's voicemail. Natalie had done the same thing several times a day for the first few weeks. Every now and then she found herself dialling Charlotte's number just to remember what her voice sounded like and she wiped her face before the tears could start and took a step back.

"I miss you. I- you-" Dean's voice stopped her, his tone close to broken and her heart squeezed itself in her chest. Now she really was intruding. "Just- just come back," his voice cracked on the last word and Natalie just knew that he was gripping the phone as though his life depended on it. "Come back," he ground out, "so I can- I can- _kick_ your ass myself."

Natalie bit down on her bottom lip to stop the snort from coming out. That was just them. After a few seconds of listening Dean crack some words out, trying to stop his voice from breaking, she took a few steps back and took another breath. She looked down and purposely looked for the spots that would creak and padded towards Dean's door, wanting it to sound as though she'd just gotten up. "Dean?" she whispered, gently knocking on the door.

There was a slight shuffling of fabric before the door opened and he stood there, his face clear of any evidence of the words he'd just been saying. "You alright?" he frowned slightly and glanced into the hallway, "Anything wrong? Did Sam kick you out?"

She let out a small laugh and shook her head, "No just trouble sleeping. Saw that the light was on and figured I'd keep you company. If- if that's alright?"

Dean beamed at her and opened the door, "I wasn't planning on sleeping anytime soon anyway."

"Good," she said, "because neither am I apparently."

SPNSPNSPNSPNSPNSPNS

Crowley let the doors open in front of him and strode into the room, admiring the number of eyes that looked up at him in fear. Since Lucifer's trip to the cage he'd worked hard to get where he was, at the very top. Being in control was his favourite place to be and he walked, hands behind his back and head held high towards the throne that sat at the head of the room.

"Crowley, Sir."

He barely passed the demon a glance, and had already forgotten his name. At least, he was sure the demon was a he. "Yes?"

"Well, it's just- you asked us to keep an eye on… her?"

He stopped, one brow drawn down into an interested yet bored expression and he turned his head to look at the demon. After a moment of silence he sighed and glared at the demon, "And?"

"And- and well, it's- she seems to have settled in. I don't know why we're watching her but-"

Crowley nodded his head and continued walking. "Good. Good. So everything's in order then?"

"Yes, Sir. Everything's going according to plan. But why-"

He smiled as he finally sat down in his throne and observed the room in front of him. "Keep me updated." Several pairs of eyes stared up at him and he rolled his eyes and waved his hand, "Go. Leave. Dismissed."

Crowley watched as everyone scurried out, a slight whisper among them. He propped his elbow on the chair arm and his chin on his fist with a grin. Everything was going perfectly.

* * *

 **A/N:** So, what do you guys think for an opening? And yes, I'll be updating weekly now. Every Thursday again!


	2. 2010 November part 2

**A/N:** Chapter 2! I hope you guys enjoy. We'll get to some action soon, I promise. Let me know what you guys think! I love all comments, good or bad.

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2010 – November

Part 2

Dean let the pans heat up as he started to gather some ingredients for a nice big breakfast. It was the usual routine every time Dean stayed the night. He would get up before Sam and Nat and cook everyone breakfast. He even made them two something without bacon and sausages, which almost killed him to do, but that meant more for him and he could compromise with that.

He turned the radio to the rock station and let it play just loud enough to mask his low singing. If he was going to cook for them two, then he compromised (again) with being able to sing along to the radio without judgement.

He started to fry the first couple of lemon flavoured pancakes for Natalie and started to whisk some egg whites as sausages and bacon starting to dry in another pan. Slowly, his singing started to get louder and he turned the radio up with him as he relaxed into the swing of breakfast.

Last night Natalie had come to him to talk. It wasn't unusual. Usually one of them found their way to 'his' room and started poking him with questions. And usually he ended up either kicking Sam out, or like last night, letting Natalie talk about how he was doing and if he didn't get lonely hunting on his own. He let her talk about how he should consider stopping like them and taking it easy for a while until she closed her eyes out of exhaustion. He had pulled the sheets over her and grabbed the spare pillows and blankets from the cupboard in the bathroom and took residence upon the couch that night.

She had a good heart, that much Dean could see. And she wasn't too wrong. Yeah, he was lonely. Yeah, at first he hunted day in and day out out of anger and a drive to not stop so that he didn't break down. But he did break, two months after Charlotte- he froze, spatula in one hand and fork in the other. Being here with Sam and Natalie helped remind him why he couldn't just stop and settle down. He's tried getting drunk and picking women up to only lose interest after the third kiss and sober up almost immediately. He'd tried just drinking until he blacked out and hoping something happened, but he always woke up fully clothed in the crappy motel room he'd booked that night, his memory gone. And Dean was not proud to have those blank spots in his memory. But those events, and spending his nights here, reminded him why he couldn't stop.

It hurt. It hurt too damn much and he couldn't imagine trying to live a normal life without her.

"Dean!"

He blinked and whipped his round to see Sam nudge him to the side to grab one of the pans. "Wha-" he looked down and cursed as he blocked Sam's path, retook the pan of pancakes and flipped them. He grinned and turned his shit eating grin up to Sam, "I'm good."

Sam raised his brows and smirked, "Your bacon isn't."

Dean's face dropped and he smelt the start of burning bacon. He turned his attention to the greasy pan and lifted it off the heat, playing his fork through the meat and he winced. "I've had worse."

Sam snorted and started to boil some water. "I never asked, you heard anything from Cas?"

Dean shook his head as he spooned his bacon onto a plate. "Not a damn thing. Why? Have you?"

Sam shook his head, "No, I just- figured-"

Dean nodded his head. He'd tried calling Cas several times. For the first three months Cas came. He appeared whenever Dean asked, humouring him as Dean talked his off about some nonsense the Angel didn't understand until Dean either fell asleep or waved Cas away. It was now three months since he'd heard anything at all. "Not a peep. Maybe Heaven's really that messed up."

"Yeah, maybe. I just, thought he'd at least say hi once in a while. I mean," Sam let out a soft chuckle, "he did Molotov Michael for us."

Dean chuckled. "Yeah he did. Crazy bastard."

"Did someone burn something?"

"No!" Dean answered a yawning Natalie. He grabbed a clean plate and started to scoop her pancakes onto them. He grabbed the makeshift syrup of mashed blueberries with sugar and water and poured a little onto them, thrusting the plate in her direction, "Next time I'll poison the sugar."

She rolled her eyes and moved to grab a fork from the drawer. "A likely story."

"Sam, you best keep your wench in line."

Natalie lifted her foot and kicked the back of Dean's leg. "Shut your face or this _wench_ will show you the door. Face first."

"Oooh, kinky."

"Sam!"

"What? I'm not getting involved."

Natalie huffed and dug into her pancakes with a glare at a gloating Dean.

* * *

Samuel Campbell shoved the Djinn into the room and quickly stepped back as somebody else took her hands from him. He watched as the Djinn was roughly shoved forward until she was shoved against the opposite wall where a set of chains were attached at ankle level. The Djinn swiped out and their captor and reached up without batting an eye and held their wrist firm for two seconds before she twisted the Djinn's arm and made her fall to her knees in a cry.

"This is nothing," she sung to the Djinn as she shoved them away and shackled them to the wall, "compared to what's in store for you."

Samuel glanced away with a frown and eyed the corridor of several doors, behind which were other monsters and creatures. "I thought Crowley was supposed to do this."

"He's a little bitch. Doesn't like to get his hands dirty," she sung as she uncovered the tray of tools and blades. "In a bit," she sang to room before she stalked out. "Next one, Campbell," she said as she locked the door behind her. "And no dilly dalling. The dogs get mighty hungry these days."

There was a low growl from his ankles and Samuel jumped back, his eyes wide. "Where?"

"Already on your phone." She waved a hand over her shoulder and Samuel glared at her as he slowly turned away, an itch running down his back. "And next time, don't let them get too close to the Winchesters. We don't want anybody getting in the way now do we?"

* * *

She hummed as she walked down the corridor, a hellhound by her feet. Whilst Crowley had some control over her, she had the higher ground. A hound that followed her and there were demons already questioning Crowley's position as king of hell.

Which made her life even better.

With a hum of Def Leppard she traced her fingers along the doors until she stopped and tilted her head with a smirk. There were enochian symbols on the front of the door and she slid the lock off and pushed the door open. Inside, the walls, floor and ceiling were covered in more enochian symbols. There were a few burned wings against the walls but what took pride was the centre piece of the room. Bound by chains, enchanted to keep even Angels at bay, and enclosed in a circle of holy oil just in case was one man.

"Hello, Castiel."

He gritted his teeth and glared at her. "What did Crowley do?"

She tilted her head to one side and grinned wider, "Made me a free woman?" After a moment she frowned and pulled a face. "That actually makes me sick to say."

Castiel pulled on the chains and she raised a brow. "Careful now, we don't want you hurting yourself do we?"

"I will escape, and I will help you."

"I don't want to be helped." She winked one black eye at him and stepped back out of the room. "Don't worry. I'll be back soon for another chat."

* * *

Cas watched her leave, his head held high and his fixed on the back of her neck. He watched the door close behind her and screwed his hands up. The sigils on the wall and the specially made chains had weakened him considerably, so much so that he could barely hear Heaven any more. Through the slit in the door she smirked back at him, gave him another week and finally closed it, shutting out the last bit of light from the room. He hung his head and sighed, his shoulders dropping as he tried to relax a little.

It was his own fault that he was here. His own fault that he fell, "hook, line and sinker" as the humans would say. And now he was trapped. The few Angels that had tried to mount a rescue had suffered with their lives, and he had made to watch, their final act of heroism staining the walls that surrounded him.

He'd heard Dean's voice several times, asking him to "Show your damn face, Cas! It's been two weeks without a god damn hello? Get down here!" And now it was the only thing he could hear. He'd lost Sam's voice over a month ago and now, even Dean's voice was fading from his mind. He gave the chains a small shake, wondering just how much longer he could actually survive here.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **Guest 1:** Here's a more cheery Dean. For now. **wink wink**

 **Guest 2:** I'm still on the fence about that. I spent about five minutes debating with myself on how to do it. I adore Charlotte and Dean's relationship too, I think I live for it.


	3. 2010 November part 3

**A/N:** Hey guys. Sorry for the delays. There'll be an explanation at the bottom. Let me know your thoughts on what's happened so far. You guys know I love hearing back from you. Enjoy!

* * *

2010 – November

Part 3

 _Michigan- Battle Creek_

Dean scanned the newspaper as he stuffed bacon and sausages into his mouth, following every few bites with a swig of black coffee. There was a news article about the fifth baby having been kidnapped from a locked house whilst the parents had been brutally murdered and not a single lock broken or alarm triggered. He frowned as he swallowed his mouthful of food and reread the article. There were no leads and apparently the suits had been involved in the cases, a nice picture capturing one of them trying to avoid the paparazzi. Dean's frown deepened as he looked closer at the image of the 'federal agent'. He dropped his fork, picked up the paper and leaned closer to the paper, certain that the guy looked familiar. "No," he mumbled to himself, "can't be." He grabbed the glass of water on the table, quickly knocked it back and pressed the glass against the image to magnify it. The face that stared back up at him was Samuel Campbell… who was dead.

He took one last gulp of coffee, grabbed his jacket and stood up, already pulling a few notes out of his pocket to drop onto the table as he left, keys already in hand. There was no way his dead Grandfather was alive. The guy was dead. Dean had watched him die. So what the hell was his picture doing on the front page of the newspaper in 2010?

Dean tested the speed limit as he drove to Battle Creek, questions flying through his mind, and it took him a little under an hour to reach the city limits. He brought up a list of the places where the parents had been murdered and started to drive past each one. The newspaper was in his lap and Dean kept looking down to get another look at the car that Samuel had been pictured getting into.

It was whilst he was driving past the third house, a murmur of curses leaving his mouth every other minute, that he spotted the car parked up at a diner. He rolled his eyes and pulled up next to it, flipping off a driver that beeped him as he passed. He eyed the car once more, double checking that he had it right before he moved to the trunk of his car. Through the windows he counted about eight people, none of which resembled Samuel Campbell and Dean ground his teeth together as he grabbed his pistol and a silver knife. There was no way in hell that this was the real Samuel Campbell, no way.

He couldn't help the cautionary glance he passed around the parking lot before he locked the trunk of his car and made his way to the door. A young couple left as he reached the door and he held it open to them with a tight smile, his eyes looking past their shoulders to the diner behind them. He stepped inside and finally spotted the old hunter sat in a booth on the far side by himself. Dean made a bee line for him and sat down opposite Samuel with a firm frown on his face, his arms folded on the table and the gun cocked and pointed directly at him, hidden behind his arm. "Start talking," Dean said, "how the fuck are you alive?"

Samuel, to his credit, simply raised one brow at the sight of the gun before he let out a short sigh and finally met Dean's eyes. "I don't know."

Dean's brows furrowed and he tilted his head slightly, lips pursed. That wasn't what he wanted to hear. "What do you mean you don't know?"

"It means," Samuel said in a steady tone, "that I don't know. I wish I did, but I don't."

Dean opened his mouth to say something, only to be interrupted by the waitress standing over them, a pot of coffee in her hand and a grin on her face. "Can I get you anything? Coffee? Food? A menu?"

"Just coffee," Dean said with a thin lipped smile, "thanks."

"I'll have a refill please," Samuel said, nudging his empty mug forward.

The waitress, who's name tag showed _Angela_ in faded red lettering, refilled Samuel's mug and beamed at Dean, "I'll be right back with your coffee."

Once she was gone Dean turned his smile off and glared at Samuel. "Start talking, how did you end up here? And when?"

* * *

Sam scanned the news article, his brows scrunching more and more with each line he read, his mind already shutting off the report he was supposed to be filling out. One thing he never told Dean or Natalie was that he kept himself up to date on the news, on the strange cases that seemed like it would've been his thing. He kept in contact with a few hunters, pointing them towards the cases and asking Bobby if anybody was checking into them.

This case was bizarre and he sincerely hoped that somebody was already investigating it. With a deep frown he grabbed his phone and was texting a message to Bobby with one hand as he kept scrolling through the article. He was just about to hit send when a picture caught his eyes and he froze, eyes fixed on the screen. He dropped his phone in favour of zooming in on the picture that had been snapped by a reporter and his eyes widened when he recognised the face staring back at him.

Sam glanced up from his desk, happy that he had his own little office to work in, before he abandoned the text message and opted for dialling Dean's number. "Come on, Dean, pick up." It went to voicemail and he tried his brother again. When he did pick up with a snappy "What?" Sam rushed over him, "There's a case that's all over the news, something about missing babies and dead parents. But the articles, they've got this picture and I swear, Dean, it's Samuel Campbell." There was silence over the line for several seconds, Sam half expecting Dean to scoff at him and tell him to get back to his job, or for Dean to scold him for even thinking about such a thing, and Sam felt his heart race. "Dean?"

"I know."

"Y-You know?"

"I know."

Sam nodded his head to himself and ran a hand through his hair. "You know that it's impossible right."

"You want to speak to him yourself?" Dean snapped.

"What?"

Dean sighed and Sam could hear the eye roll over the line, "Here- just-"

He raised one brow as he waited, listening to the sound of shuffling on the other end before a deep voice simply said, "Hey, Sam. It's Samuel."

"Give it here," he heard Dean mutter and the phone was passed over again before Dean's voice sounded clearly through the line, "we did the checks. He's human alright."

Sam was already standing from his desk, his computer shutting down as he said, "I'm on my way."

"No- no. You're not."

"Dean, he's our dead grandpa, alive again. Not to mention the case which is-"

"I've got it," Dean said, his voice stern with an air of finality. It was a few seconds more before he let out a breath and said, "You're out man, just, stay out," and hung up.

Sam glared at his phone for a moment before he shook his head and grabbed his bag.

* * *

Crowley hummed as he picked up a silver blade and ran it along the jaw of the chained Djinn. The Djinn hissed, trying to reel back from the knife, but Crowley's hand underneath her chin held her in place as the blade sliced through her skin, leaving behind a thin red line that started to bleed. "Tell me what I want to know, or I'm going to make this look like a bruise."

The Djinn growled and managed to throw a spitball in Crowley's face with a short chuckle.

Crowley glared at her before he sunk the knife into her ribs, earning a howl from the monster. He grabbed a handful of hair and yanked her head back before he pulled the knife free from her ribs and dug it into her cheek, grinning as she writhed and tried to twist away. "By the time I'm through with you, you'll be singing me your abc's with a smile." He let go of her and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his hands. He threw it over her and started towards the door, his eyes glancing over the only other person in the room. "Care for a turn?"

The corner of her lip twitched and she slowly looked over to the Djinn. After a moment she shrugged a shoulder and stretched her arms over her head, "Maybe in a while. Let her stew." And with that she turned on the balls of her feet and almost skipped away.

Crowley watched her leave with a curious expression. He had a few doubts, he always did, but those doubts were nothing in comparison to what was nearly within his grasp. He glanced back over his shoulder at the whimpering Djinn and rolled his eyes with a short mumble of, "Pathetic," before he locked the door behind him.

He glanced back down the corridor to where she had disappeared to and he clicked his fingers, one of his minions appearing by his side within an instant. He pointed after her and simply said, "Who's watching her?"

"Marty, Sir."

Crowley narrowed his eyes for a moment before he said, "He's the red head right?"

"Blonde, sir."

He thought for a moment before he shook his head, "Whatever. Just make sure she doesn't do anything without us knowing about it."

The tall minion bowed and rushed out a quick, "Yes sir," before he scurried past Crowley and down the hall. Crowley pursed his lips and eyed that same direction for a few more moments. He had the proof that everything was going to work out, that it would all be okay. That proof was the reason for this in the first place. He hummed, turned in the opposite direction and started at a leisurely pace.

Why was he doubting himself? The precautions were in place. The Winchesters were none the wiser. He had all of his pawns right where he wanted them and Castiel was chained away from even the Angel's eyes. Everything… was perfect.

* * *

 **A/N:**

 **thaovy203:** That actually left a big stupid grin on my face. Thank you so much, that's so nice to hear.

 **Mia Bella7:** Thank you. Sorry I haven't updated in a while, there's an explanation below. I'll do my best to stay on track now.

 **Fanficfan20XX:** Here's the update! I hope you enjoy it. And thanks, I guess I'm feeling a little better.

 **So.. where have I been?**

The first week break I took was because I was in charge of organising a hen do weekend and was still chasing everything up until the last hours before everything was starting. So many messages, posts and emails to people. The second week I was ill and run down. I barely made it through work, never mind trying to concentrate on writing. It was just a no. Then I started the process of buying a house and that in itself is stressful.

After that?

At first I lost my motivation. Then I was getting up, getting dressed, going to work, going to bed, rinse and repeat. I was going through the motions before I even realised it, filling my spare time with background noise to trick myself into thinking that I was doing something. I'd started the third chapter so long ago, and I've kept opening it and looking at it, but it wasn't until now that I was able to actually write something and feel it. There's been a wedding between then and now, a few really stressful weeks at work where I got to the point that I just broke down and cried it was that bad.

I can't make a promise that I will be updating every week. I will do my best though. I feel like I'm still shaking off the cobwebs and getting back into the swing of writing, because I haven't done _any_ for over a month now. I just hope that you guys will stick with me through this story because it's not over yet and I'm not ready to throw in the towel. I do want to tell it and I want you all to enjoy it as much as I do.


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